In the Barcelona airport last week, waiting to board the first of two flights home, I posted this on Instagram.
The caption — referring to the widespread US college protests that erupted while Rael and I were traveling in Spain — may not line up with the text in the image, but that’s where my mind has been as I’ve struggled to process the complexity of what’s happening.
Nothing is ever just one thing, I wrote.
That line rattled around in my head on the way home …
… as I peeled back the foil on my airplane meal …
sort of gross; and also a treat in the weird, novel way TV dinners were when I was a kid
… and shuffled through passport control …
intimidating; and also satisfying to hear the chook-chook of the passport stamp when the officer gave me the go-ahead
… and now, as I attempt to caffeinate myself into functionality and take in the springtime lushness outside my living room window in Portland.
flicker of grief over missing the emergence of Spring; and also a thrill to be dropped into it mid-explosion
Nothing is ever just one thing.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Parent of Adults to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.